


Business Trip

by mrs_d



Category: due South
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 17:28:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4573263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_d/pseuds/mrs_d
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Don't be sorry. I wanted to see you before you left."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Business Trip

Ray awoke to the sound of keys jingling. In the dim morning light he saw Fraser, wearing a shirt and tie, walking past the bed. Ray burrowed a little deeper into the blankets, feeling warm and drowsy.

“You going already?” he mumbled.

“Soon,” came Fraser’s reply. “You don’t have to get up.”

Ray yawned. “It’s okay, I’m awake.”

And a few seconds later, he was. Fully. His eyes snapped open at the familiar sound of a nine-round cartridge clicking into place. It shook his insides as it reminded him of where they were and what day it was.

Fraser snapped the semi-automatic into the holster under his arm and headed into the bathroom, leaving the door open so that the yellow light spilled across the wall. Ray sat up and turned on the lamp beside the bed, his stomach all in knots.

“What time is it?” he asked the empty hotel room.

Fraser’s voice sounded strained. “Early. I’m due at the courthouse in two hours.” He stuck his head out of the bathroom doorway but didn’t meet Ray’s eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Don’t be sorry. I wanted to see you before you left.” Ray slid out of bed, automatically seeking coffee. He headed to the single-brew next to Fraser’s lockbox and put the bag of grounds into the machine. Then he took one of the paper cups into the bathroom to get water.

Fraser was standing in front of the mirror, straightening his suit jacket over his gun and frowning at his hair. Ray snuck around him to get to the tap. It felt normal to smile at Fraser; Ray did it every morning when Fraser was as bad about his hair as he was.

“Will you be free for lunch?” Ray asked. When Fraser didn’t answer, Ray tried to keep his tone friendly as he went on. “Look, I know you don’t want me at the trial, but we could sneak out, hit a deli or something.”

Fraser grimaced at the mirror. “We’d better not,” he replied finally. “With the media circus on the front steps...”

Any sense of normalcy Ray was experiencing crashed to the ground as his mind flickered back to their recent conversations — not quite arguments — about the news and RCMP confidentiality codes and all that other regulatory crap. Really, Ray thought, the only thing normal about this morning was the damn press hounds. They were lapping it up, the tale of the criminal beauty queen and the lovesick Mountie, and none of them seemed to care that these were real people they were assaulting with cameras and microphones.

“Right. I forgot. I’m bad for your image.” Ray brushed past Fraser and carried his water back to the coffee maker.

Fraser followed him. “Ray, you know that’s not it.”

“Do I? It’s not like you’d tell me or anything,” Ray muttered, turning on the machine. He knew he was asking for it now, picking a fight, but fighting was easier than the awkward in-between-fight shuffle they’d been doing since they got on the plane.

“You know the rules,” Fraser began for what felt like the thousandth time, “I’m not allowed to discuss the details of the case—”

Ray whirled around. He’d lost count of how many times he’d delivered these lines. “Fraser, this is not about rules, and you know it. This is about you shutting me out as soon as we figured out who we were tracking. This is about _her_.”

“This entire trip is about her, Ray,” Fraser countered. “Why else would we come here? Did you think I suddenly felt nostalgic for arguing with you in an urban environment?”

Ray took a savage pleasure in Fraser’s sarcasm. “That’s nice, Fraser, that’s real nice. Why _did_ you bring me here, huh? To stash me away, make sure the world don’t know Mounties can swing both ways like anybody else?”

“Ray—” Fraser blew out a breath, then spoke in a voice of forced calm. “I told you before: I am trying to protect you.”

“Bull. Protecting don’t mean keeping me in the dark, Fraser. You’re going to have to tell me one of these days — at least today you’d be under oath.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Ray,” Fraser shouted suddenly. “Do we have to do this now?”

They glared at each other in silence for a few seconds before Ray lowered his eyes, his anger oozing away as shame crept in to take its place.

“Inspector Jones’ taxi will be here any minute.” Fraser yanked open the closet, pulled out his shoes and jacket, and slammed it shut. “Now is not a good time for an argument. All right?”

Ray nodded. He watched Fraser sit and lace up his shoes with slightly trembling hands and felt like a colossal asshole (as usual) because this whole thing was hell on Fraser, and he should never have forgotten that.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled and sat next to him on the bed. “I just don’t want you to be alone in this.”

Fraser stood up. “And I don’t want to lose you.”

Fraser still sounded royally pissed, but Ray couldn’t help rolling his eyes. “Fraser, she’s going away. For good this time. Four counts of murder one, she’ll never see the light of day. What could she do to me?”

Fraser paused in the act of putting on his coat. “You don’t want to know.”

“But I _do_ know,” Ray protested. “I’m in this already, Fraser. I’ve read Vecchio’s files. I tracked her, same as you, those first few weeks.” He rose to his feet and took a step forward. “You can’t cut me out.”

Fraser stepped back. “Ray, can we _please_ argue about this later?”

Ray sighed, ran his hands through his hair. “All right. All right, later. No arguing, though. Just... communicating.”

Fraser was giving him The Skeptical Look, so Ray took another step forward and kissed him. He was like a statue against Ray’s lips — it may have been a few years since sentry duty in a starchy red uniform, but nobody could do stationary better than a Mountie, plainclothes be damned.

“I’m sorry,” Ray repeated. “I’m just not that good at words,” he added and tried again. This time, Fraser softened up and kissed him back, but only a little.

“Do you always state the obvious?” he asked when Ray pulled back.

“Not much gets past me, you know.” Ray smiled faintly, then went serious again. “You’ll be all right up there,” he said. It was half question, half reassurance.

Fraser seemed to wilt before his eyes. “I hope so.”

“You will. Call me on your lunch break? And before you leave? On my cell. And if you need anything—”

“—I’ll call,” Fraser promised. Then he glanced at his watch.

“You better go,” Ray said. “Don’t want to piss off the new and improved Ice Queen this early in the morning.”

Fraser nodded and turned towards the door, then spun back. Ray stepped into his arms, since he knew this was both apology and forgiveness, and kissed him, deeply and sweetly, sliding one hand up to rub his back where the bullet was still lodged.

When they broke apart, Fraser pressed his forehead against Ray’s. “I love you.”

“You, too,” Ray replied, reluctantly pulling away.

“You’ll be here when I get back?”

Ray went cold as the full implication of Fraser’s simple question sank in. “You won’t lose me, Fraser. I’m not going anywhere,” he said as firmly as he could.

Fraser looked down at the floor. “I... need a little more time, Ray.”

“I’ll be here,” Ray said. Fraser opened the door, but Ray suddenly needed to see him smile, so he added, “Tonight we’ll get room service, okay? Do you think they have that ice cream you’re always going on about — caribou’s feet?”

It worked. Fraser grinned like he’d just fallen into a duvet of snow and looked years younger. “Moose tracks, Ray,” he corrected. “And, yes, let’s hope they do.”


End file.
